


(Not) Like A Boston Marriage

by Kindness



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/F, by request but still, i...did this apparently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2019-07-08 10:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15928145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindness/pseuds/Kindness
Summary: "I didn't think you were the type to hang out in bars."





	(Not) Like A Boston Marriage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amathela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amathela/gifts).



> Originally posted on LJ, as a sort of Porn Battle "bonus track." Finally getting around to transferring my handful of LJ-only fics to AO3, in the Year of Our Lord 2018.
> 
> Prompt: _fascinating_

It starts in Hartford, the night she ends it with Jason, the night she finds out her mother's secretly living in a hotel. She walks out of the coffee shop and into a bar she's never frequented, and it starts in Hartford, very late, with a stool approximation of the classic villain's swivel.

(Minus the white cat.)

"Hello," she says, this pretty blonde girl about Rory's age, with a smoky dark voice that doesn't belong. Lorelai does her best not to look as startled as she is. "...Lorelai, right?"

It takes a second to absorb her – the heart-shaped face, the languid eyes, the mouth that rings a bell. The way she holds her drink, like she was born with long, manicured fingers and a delicate glass-stem to balance between them.

It's something about her eyebrows, bizarrely, that jogs Lorelai's memory.

"Madeline?" she hazards, because she was never sure which was which.

"Louise," corrects Louise, and she takes a sip of her drink like it's water, which, frankly, it should be, but Lorelai's so, _so_ off-duty tonight.

"Sorry."

Louise shrugs, one careless shoulder, like she can't even be bothered to use both, and studies Lorelai intently. Her head tips to one side, just slightly, thoughtful and curious.

For a few seconds, Lorelai stares back, and then she shakes her head – _Could this night get any weirder?_ – and orders a drink instead.

Louise watches.

When Lorelai finally looks back at her, and gives her a look like, okay, can I help you? Louise says simply, "I didn't think you were the type to hang out in bars." But she doesn't say it like the answer to a question; she says it like something – beginning.

The bartender brings Lorelai's drink.

She swirls it and watches it settle and tries to pick an answer. And then she decides, well, it wasn't really a question, was it?

She shrugs, just one shoulder, a parody of Louise's casual poise.

"I like to try new things."

~

Louise has an apartment in Hartford. It's close to the bar.

When Lorelai asks why she doesn't stay with her parents in town, she says, "My mom is having an affair."

Which doesn't sound like an explanation, but maybe it is and Lorelai's just drunker than she thought.

~

"I thought you had a boyfriend," she says, as Louise kisses from her ear down to the hollow of her collarbone.

"I do." Louise pulls back a little, surprised. "So? ...You met him."

"What?!"

"Alex." She slides down the bed a little, braces her hand on Lorelai's bare hip, noses gently between her breasts. Her hair tickles, but Lorelai is too flabbergasted to laugh.

"The _bartender_?"

~

"I – heard about you making out with Madeline," she says, because apparently she can't help herself. "Spr-spring break?"

"Yeah." Louise sounds as detached as if she were still lying on the beach in Florida, not curling her fingers inside Rory Gilmore's mother, with a smile like a secret.

"Are you..." It's hard to make the words come together. Maybe she isn't sure what they should be.

"It's like a Boston marriage," says Louise, obligingly, with a funny little twist.

 _I don't think that means what you think it means,_ says Lorelai, but it only comes out as actual words in her head.

~

Louise reminds Lorelai of the girl she might have been, kind of like how Rory reminds her, but in a completely, completely different way.

Sometimes it's when they talk (and they do talk, which surprises Lorelai in and of itself), but really, especially, it's when they fuck.

Louise is quick and funny and smart (smarter than Lorelai gave her credit for, when she was sixteen and, yes, kind of stupid), but she's also, she's _so_ , indolent pleasure and skill and ease. And she's delicious, thorough entitlement. And sometimes, underneath all that, she's a vague sort of – _gravitas_ , which, insofar as Lorelai sees it, is very appealing, but sometimes she's not sure if she does see it, or if she just wants to.

Sometimes is usually when she forgets to forget. It's also when she asks herself the real questions, at inconvenient times: Shouldn't Louise be at school (which is Tulane, she knows now, and Madeline's was Mills but instead she hung out with Louise and, right now, she's in New York with a guy named Steve)? Shouldn't Louise not cheat on her boyfriend, or her girlfriend, or whatever? Isn't this the worst, wrongest, most definitely twisted thing she, Lorelai, has done yet, and shouldn't she _stop_ , maybe, before something comes out of the sky and smites her?

"Louise," she says, the fifth time or sixth time they're together, as she tries to remember to breathe. "Don't you think – "

Louise looks up, annoyed. The tip of her nose, the wet O of her mouth, glistens. "Do you mind?" she demands, all swagger and dignity, as if she weren't naked and crouched between Lorelai's knees. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."

Lorelai can't help but laugh, just a little, all the real questions aside. "I was – "

Louise rolls her eyes – affectionately? maybe? – and makes a sharp gesture: _Zip it._

"You talk too much."

She leans down again, and then after a second Lorelai feels the flick and – _oh_ – the flat press of her tongue. She sighs, a long, slow, ragged sound, and lets her head fall back on Louise's monogrammed pillows.

"Yeah...I've heard that before."


End file.
